


Cursed

by aniat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Durin Family Feels, Dís-centric, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniat/pseuds/aniat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in years she dared hope perhaps her life wouldn't be a curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fili

Fili was a blessing, they said.

She had never seen her husband smile so wide as when her belly began to swell, a sharp contrast to her underfed and pale body. Even Thorin’s stoic face broke into a new glimmer of hope as her body grew with the promise of new life in the midst of all the loss and grief, the ghost of a smile passing through his lips.

She dared not hope.

She knew her child, should it ever come to live, should her weak body be strong enough to bring it to life, would come into the world without home or food, gold or title. She knew what it was; it was punishment, for they would have to see it starve and suffer a fate that was not it’s fault to begin it.

And in the swelling of her womb she felt not joy, but guilt and grief, even more so when she saw the shy smiles directed at her, her people drowned in pain clinging to her baby as they would to air. But she could not take that hope from them, not when they had already lost so much, so she quietly faked smiles through the knowledge that her baby would suffer her family’s curse.

Then came the day of Fili’s birth.

It began as a dull pain in her abdomen, then the trickle of water down her legs, and the next thing she knew the women were making her lay down and running around in preparation to welcome their prince into the world.

She was crying before the first contractions came along.

Vili came into the room at one point, wearing a nervous smile and holding her hand through tears he couldn’t tell were of pain or happiness, but was soon shooed away by the midwife. She could hear pacing outside and the rushed conversations of the dwarves who waited there, most likely bringing whatever gifts they could afford to give in these difficult times because this was the closest to tradition and home they could get.

It was agony, the contractions and convulsions as her body tried to bring her child to life, and she screamed and screamed through the pain as the midwife frowned from where she sat between her legs.

"You’re fighting it," she scolded as much as she dared scold her princess. "That’s why it hurts so bad. You have to stop fighting it and help your body push it out."

But she fought, oh how she fought to keep her child where she could protect it, to keep it away from a life she knew was cursed, knowing it was too late and the battle was lost.

But Fili fought harder.

The little lion he was from the womb, he clawed his way into life with the same fierceness he would later cling to it through hunger and sickness, pushed his way out of her body and into her heart as if to make her see he was in fact a blessing, and she should have known then and there that he would do anything to prove himself.

The moment her son’s first cry filled the air, she froze. She sat petrified, eyes wide and out of breath, as the midwife told her she had given birth to a beautiful little lad, that they would clean him up and give him to her. Her whole body felt numb.

But Fili stopped crying quickly and she felt her heart skip a beat. “Is he alright? What happened?”

"He’s just fine, dear. Not much of a crier, it seems. A fine, strong lad this one will be."

Fili was small, a lot smaller and lighter than he should be, but this time her fear could not overcome her joy as the midwife placed him in her arms and she felt for the very first time her son pressed against her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!
> 
> Just reminding you all that english is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes please point them out and i'll fix them.
> 
> Two more chapters on the way!


	2. Kili

It was Thorin who gave her the news of Vili's death.

Fili was only five then, too young to fully understand what was happening, but Dwalin took him to his room to play as soon as he stepped inside the house, leaving his uncle and mother alone in the small hall.

It was her brother's steady presence that kept her from completely breaking down as she shook and cried and held on to her pregnant belly like a lifeline, the weight in her chest squeezing the breath from her lungs.

"The lad, Dís," he whispered quietly. "Think of the lad. The lads," he added, placing a hand over hers on her stomach as she swallowed down her screams for the sake of her son, still so young and innocent, so unaware of what death meant and yet he would never again run to his father as he came through the front door, would never again feel the warmth of his father's embrace.

Thorin was right, and for her children she would endure.

As soon as she walked into the room, Fili's tiny arms wrapped themselves around her legs. Mister Dwalin had been trying to distract him with toys and wooden swords, but the walls were thin and the rooms small and his mother's sobs set an uneasy feeling in his chest. She picked him up and carried him over to the bed where he settled on her lap and felt her fingers run repeatedly through his hair like a prayer.

His uncle was standing by the door, quiet and still as stone, and Mister Dwalin stood up and squeezed his mother's shoulder on his way out.

"We need to talk,  _kidhuzel_."

Fili did not understand when she told him da wasn't coming home. He didn't understand what it meant to go to the halls of waiting or what forever really meant, but he knew from his mother's trembling hands and bloodshot eyes it had to be something bad.

Dís didn't know what to do when for long weeks Fili refused to say a word, didn't know what to tell him when he'd sit by the front door and wait for his father to come home, when he'd wake up shaking and scared and ask for his da.

What was she supposed to tell him when she could barely contain her tears herself when she looked upon his golden hair and dimples that were the spitting image of her husband's, when she woke up cold and lonely to deafening silence, and when she felt herself crumble under the weight of her grief, how could she expect a child to bear it?

Still she did everything she could and held him close for it was for her children that she would endure. For her children she would be strong.

And if in the quiet nights when Fili couldn't hear her she cried for the fatherless child she would bring into the world, she quickly swallowed her tears when morning came and moved on.

Kili was born during a storm.

She was standing in the kitchen when the first contraction came, a pained gasp leaving her lips as she leaned against the table for support. Thorin was at her side in a second, a scared Fili on his ankles.

"What's wrong with mama?" He asked, eyes wide as he clung to his uncle's trousers.

It was for once very lucky they were all squeezed together in such a small space, because Thorin was knocking on the midwife's door not a minute after he had gotten Dís lying in bed, Fili hovering worriedly by her side as she reassured him between deep breaths.

"I don' wan' to," Fili mumbled between tears as the women were running around and his uncle came to take him into the other room. "I wanna stay with mama," he declared, clinging to her dress with all the strength in his little hands.

"It's okay, love. Mama will still be here when you come back, and you'll have a little brother or sister to play with."

"But I don' wan' to," he whispered, shaking his head, and she felt a sting of sadness in her chest.

"Fili," Thorin called firmly. "Come."

"It's okay, love. It's okay."

To this day the despair in her little boy's eyes as Thorin carried him out of the room and away from her haunts her.

Kili's birth was a lot faster and less painful, and by the end of three hours she had a bundle of little limbs and dark hair in her arms.

Fili had stopped crying, but it was still a pitiful sight when he walked into the room, eyes red and swollen, one hand fisted tightly on his uncle's tunic as he sucked on the thumb of the other.

"Mama!" He cried, jumping onto the bed next to her and then pausing as he seemed to notice the little lump in his mother's lap. "What's that?"

"That, love, is your little brother. His name is Kili."

Fili was fascinated, his blue eyes wide as he took in the sight of the baby. "He's so tiny," he whispered, then carefully brought a hand to touch his brother's where it peaked out from under the blanket. Kili made a little noise and wriggled his fingers in a way that made Fili's lips twist into his first smile in months and for the first time in a long time Dís felt her heart warm like spring after a harsh winter.

It was for them, Dís knew. For them, she would endure and for them she would hope.

For them she would live again.


	3. Dís

As soon as they show up at her doorstep, she knows.

She has dreamed of this day, the day she would open the door once again to bright golden hair and messy dark locks and hug her sons once more, hold them close shaking and proud and bask in the sound of Kili’s voice and Fili’s amused snort as her youngest yelled and laughed -  _"See, I told you I’d come back to you!"_

She still looks for them, peers over Balin’s shoulder like she expects them to jump out from behind him and laugh at her concern, but she knows, Mahal,  _she knows._

Her babies are dead.

The children she brought into this world, pushed out of her own body, her own flesh and blood and soul pumping through bright smiles and endless loyalty and the sunshine of her now endless days.

She had thought bringing them to this world was the hardest thing she would have to do, bringing them into a land of sorrow and grief and watching them starve and cling to survival with all the fierceness in their little bodies, but this. This is the very life being ripped out from her heart, her womb that once dilated to give them the home they never had and this is the price of her hope, her faith that she would be able to raise these boys out of the devastation of her own life, this is the price her boys - her lovely, mischievous little dwarflings - paid for her love.

This is the price she pays for the years of happiness she finally,  _finally_  had since her belly swelled and grew with life, this is the screams tearing from her throat as she rips her hair out in clumps and prays,  _prays_  that this is a lie, this is a mistake and her boys will come back to her, hearts full of love and sunshine in their eyes, and her lonely, endless waiting will pay the price for that hope as well, because Dwalin leaves Fili’s beads next to Kili’s rune stone on her bedside table as they leave her to her grief and the items taken from their cooling bodies are the only thing she has left now.

Now her sons rest beside her brother and she never gets to see them again, never gets to say goodbye, yet the image of her dwarflings covered in blood, eyes dead and unmoving, lying side by side in the battlefield is all she can think about, and she sees it so clearly she suddenly realizes it’s been burning in the back of her mind ever since they left, ever since she  _let them_ leave to reclaim a home that wasn’t  _theirs_ , a home they had never even known and wished to fight for purely out of love for her and Thorin, and they had looked so proud and painfully,  _painfully_  young and if only she had known that was the last time she would ever see them.

But now once again her life is the empty feeling in her chest, the lump of grief that squeezes her throat, the pain she knows so well, but oh no, no,  _not them, not them, please, I’ll do anything, please, not my boys._

It’s not fair; it’s not logical. She was never supposed to outlive them. The only way she was ever supposed to go back to Erebor was with her sons by her side, and yet her cousins wait for her in the other room, the room  _Thorin_  was supposed to be waiting in as Fili and Kili helped her gather her belongings and more got in her way than anything else,  _that_  is how it was supposed to be, and it’s all wrong.

And it’s because of her dream that her boys now lie so far away from home.

The stone and beads feel cold against her palm when she reaches for them. She holds them close and thinks of Erebor and it’s great halls, the gold that ran like water over the walls, the mines she loved to explore as a dwarfling, the soft sound of her mother’s singing, the grounds her brothers used to spar at.

Erebor was her home, the dream of a home ripped from her she would one day see again.

Now it’s nothing but the cold stone in which her kin lies.

Now once again her home is taken from her, home where little dwarflings ran around with big careless grins on their faces and Thorin’s exasperated façade could never quite hide the fondness in his eyes, home where nightmares and scraped knees were the only dangers her sons had to face, home where they had drawn their first breath, and yet so far away, far too soon, had they drawn their last.

And it’s out of pure exhaustion, cradling her sons’ memories against her chest, that she slowly falls asleep and prays she’ll wake up to boisterous laughter and the sounds of plates cracking in the kitchen or not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry
> 
> This chapter was actually the first one i wrote and it was initially supposed to be a standalone, but then everything else just sort of happened and there you have it.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and let me know if there's anything you'd like me to write next!


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